Wednesday, November 23, 2011

cold rain

Frosty rain soaks the drooping stems
 in the flowerbed
its drops drum the pavement

turns a flight of concrete steps
into a cascade of falling water
it chills our fingers bones and blood

and we vote to stay inside
away from the biting cold
the cold that tears our flesh

like badly made cloth ripping on a nail
in the grey woods
through the black dripping trees

a fire leaps
but the rain soon smothers it
and its smoke is lost in the grey clouds

the rain quenches all
and washes the earth
in coldness.

2 comments:

  1. Interesting "vote" comment, beautifully expressed...

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  2. I like this poem. Frosty rain makes me want to put on a warm sweater!

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